


Love, Lust, and Laundry

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Pegging, kinda little bit exhibitionist sex, oh and ah sex on a washing machine, pst you shouldnt do there seriously omfg, wearing socks during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apartment complex was vast and confusing and riddled with cockroaches apparently. There were strange smells, and strange people, and strange noises. It was rather an extreme adjustment.  Castiel embraced it; he embraced everything that gave him a new experience, or a new perspective, or just anything new from what his family told him. He collected all the little bits of humanity and pieced them slowly together like a magpie making a nest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Lust, and Laundry

Castiel was not used to interacting with humanity at large. He came from a very sheltered family that was very religious and most things outside the narrow scope of acceptable was deemed to be so highly unacceptable as to be completely blasphemous as well as a one way ticket to hell. It was frustrating, to say the least, for a kid who rarely fell within that narrow scope of acceptable.

Castiel struggled his entire life to fit in, and for the most part he was good at it. It was an effort, yes, but to obey his father and be dutiful to his family was what he was taught from birth, and in the small community he grew up in, it was the norm. When he became a teenager and began to have…… deviant leanings in his sexuality and moral paradigm, well, that was something to be suppressed, to be prayed away, even to be beaten away. Yet, surprise surprise, it never quite seemed to work.

So when Castiel managed to ship himself off to college with a scholarship, his family was not entirely accepting of this decision, but, due to Castiel’s newly found and burgeoning sense of independence, he had decided that his family did not entirely get a say in the matter.

Granted, he still very much craved his father’s approval. What child wouldn’t? At least, that is what he rationalized to himself. But it was difficult, to be so exposed to such a vast array of wildly different human beings that were all attempting to define themselves and the rest of their lives. It was fascinating, and beautiful, and strange.

Castiel had found himself a tiny little studio apartment, that consisted of a line of cabinets called a kitchen which fed directly to the living room which actually was the bedroom too because the bed came down from the wall, and the bathroom was a sad little affair of a shower stall and toilet. It was, however, cheaper than any sort of dormitory housing. And although he had scholarships to help with school, they only went so far.

The apartment complex was vast and confusing and riddled with cockroaches apparently. There were strange smells, and strange people, and strange noises. It was rather an extreme adjustment. Castiel embraced it; he embraced everything that gave him a new experience, or a new perspective, or just anything new from what his family told him. He collected all the little bits of humanity and pieced them slowly together like a magpie making a nest.

There was one such piece of humanity, like a rose surrounded by prickly bits of thorn, which he had slowly become acquainted with that was named Meg. She was a student as well, studying art history, and she was beautiful. Castiel tried not to let it show too much, how attracted to her he was. But he was young and a virgin and a male, and she was confident and wore skin tight clothes and smelled amazing. So he noticed her. Of course.

The surprising thing was, that she noticed him back.

Her attentions, however, seemed quite unconventional, and Castiel soon discovered, were quite crass as well. He’d helped her carry groceries in from her car sometimes, and he’d seen her in the communal laundry room, he’d bumped in to her at the mailboxes and he’d even caught her at a coffee shop on campus. And every time that she saw him, she made him feel like an object. Like something to be seen, to be touched, to be wanted.

He liked it. Much to Castiel’s surprise, he really quite liked the way Meg treated him. Like she knew what he wanted when he didn’t, and like she could give it to him.

Flirtations soon escalated to borderline sinful acts of kissing in the hallway and groping. Castiel wasn’t sure what to do with these things, but he liked them, and he liked the way that Meg gave them to him. With steady hands and a sweet voice and praises for how good he really was. Castiel wanted to be good, oh, he wanted to be good for her.

They’d kissed, and she’d given him a handjob, and she’d even given him a blow job. Castiel tried to reciprocate, he stuck his hands down her jeans but he didn’t really know what he was doing, and honestly, she just seemed a lot more frustrated for his efforts. So he decided to let her take what she wanted and show him what she could give.

This was, in hindsight, perhaps not the best idea.

Meg, well, she was really a very nice girl once you got to know her. That’s what Castiel decided. But she was strange, and her interests veered towards the more alternative. This was a subject he didn’t know much about. Yet he decided he was interested when she fingered him for the first time during a blow job and he swore he’d seen Jesus.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Jesus while his cock was in a girls mouth. But, there had been a few naughty fantasies about the Lord and Saviour that involved him in a loin cloth. He always looked so ripped on the cross. Could Castiel really be blamed for that?

Experimenting was fun, and interesting, and Castiel learned a whole heck of a lot of things about himself that he never suspected.

One day, he was in the communal laundry room, late at night on a Wednesday because it was never busy then, and he liked when it wasn’t busy. Yet Meg seemed to know his schedule, because she was really rather too clever. And she showed up with a basket of laundry as well. 

Meg tossed her laundry in and crooked an eyebrow at Castiel. She suggested that he really ought to clean the pants and shirt he was currently wearing because they looked filthy. So he listened to her, he always did, and he stripped right there in the middle of the laundry room, taking off his pants and shirt and tossing them in with the rest of the laundry. It felt rebellious, and dirty, and fantastic.

Castiel was scared shitless; anyone could walk in. He was standing there, absolutely naked except for the socks he still wore because honestly the floor was dirty and he didn’t want to get athlete’s foot. But he was mostly naked, and his cock was already twitching to life for the way that Meg eyed him, seeming perhaps somewhat disbelieving that he would in fact strip down like that. But she should know by now, what she had created. So he defiantly stared back, and dared her with the crook of eyebrow to say anything about the mismatched red and green socks that he wore.

What, it was laundry day.

Ah, but he should have suspected something of her by now. She was Meg after all, devious and cunning and always so eager to corrupt him. From the bottom of her laundry basket Meg pulled what looked like an odd contraption of leather and buckles, stepping into it and pulling it up expertly fastening the thing in place and fitting something to the front of it and, oh, oh well that was something he’d never seen in real life before. Did she actually come in here with a strap on harness and expect Castiel to play along?

Yes, she did.

And yes, he would.

Mouth running dry and cock jutting out in front of him eagerly, Castiel stood rooted to where he was when Meg motioned him forward. All she had to do was beckon to him and he followed. Had she ever led him astray?

Well, perhaps, but he ended up liking where they went every time so far. Following her, Castiel found himself bent forward with arms braced on the rather vigorously vibrating lid of a washing machine. Meg caressed down the curve of his spine and over his slim hips, finger nails scratching into his skin and the flats of her palms smacking down lightly on his ass. Slick fingers pressed into him without warning, and Castiel was familiar with that. She’d done that before, pressed her fingers into him, her tongue even, and he liked it - he loved it - but Castiel couldn’t help the nervous thrumming under his skin because he knew what she had planned for him. He saw it. Saw the thick plastic jutting from her shapely hips.

He wanted it. His body was quick to respond and eager for her fingers because all he could think about was what she was wearing pressing into him and stretching him wide like he’d never had before, and it made his pulse quicken.

Castiel was listening carefully, still, for anyone at the laundry room door, for anyone in the hallway even. He was so intent on this fact that he missed when she withdrew her fingers. Snapping back to attention quickly when the thick blunt head of a dildo pressed against him, Castiel only had time for a quick inhale before she pushed, and pushed, and slid deeper into his body than he’d ever felt before.

Fingers trying to scrabble uselessly for purchase against the smooth metal lid of the washer, Castiel groaned and bent his head forward to bury in his arm and stifle the noises he was making. But Meg pushed harder, pushed faster. One of his legs was lifted up, bent and rested against the washer. Castiel found his body folded forward and pressed down, and his cock was trapped between him and the washer, which was vibrating heavily and warm and slick and oh mercy it was wonderful. It was more than he’d of ever expected, and better than he could ever know without experiencing first hand.

Meg knew what she was doing, she must have, being able to maneuver him and make him do whatever she wanted while still lighting up that live wire inside him that made Cas into a living human wanting thing, snapping his hips back and bracing for it, begging Meg for something he didn’t know how to name, moaning her name and asking for more, more, more.

Castiel couldn’t even pace or think or notice how it crept up on him, it was just suddenly there, and he’d had orgasms before – all the best by Meg of course – but this, it was something else, it was brutal and consuming and overwhelming and Castiel screamed when he came all over the washing machine.

Coming back down to reality, Castiel’s first sensation were his toes scrunched up in the soft mis-matched socks he still wore, his second sensation was a wet belly and an ache in his backside. His third sensation was Meg’s hands scratching at the nape of his neck and stroking down his back.

Meg.

Castiel curled back into the contact and let himself be moved about while she dressed him again. His laundry was done. Ah yes, he should go ahead and take that back to his apartment. Studio. Tiny personal hell. Whatever it was. And yes, yes he had homework to do didn’t he. But Meg should still come back with him. It was all right, he liked it, he loved it, he loved, yes, yes he did, he knew what love was didn’t he, of course he did, and yes it was lust, of course, but he could have both couldn’t he, he could have love and he could have lust, he could have clean laundry and he could have Meg.

Meg.

Who had taken his anal virginity with a strap on while he wore mismatched socks on top of a wash machine in the communal laundry room.

He wanted all of it.


End file.
